


exceeding one thousand

by starsnatched



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dom Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee Are Best Friends, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is Whipped, Mark and Renjun are roommates, Minor Huang Ren Jun, Online Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Sub Mark Lee (NCT), They're switches omg, pet play undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28651440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsnatched/pseuds/starsnatched
Summary: Of fucking course.Mark goes back on Twitter and types out a tweet.omg guys im on dm limit NJDSUDNJ
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Mark Lee
Comments: 27
Kudos: 209





	1. send tweet: @marklesparkle *BONK* go to horny jail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drilbur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drilbur/gifts).



> hi! i was... i n s p i r e d because a moot was like 'omg it'd be pretty cool if you made blah blah into a fic' and i was like omg . yes . so i gave birth to this ONDSGOBJGN
> 
> enjoy!

Mark frowns when the text bubble turns red. He repeatedly clicks ‘try again’, but to no avail. The other person’s icon, a simple headshot of their face, smiles back at him, and Mark feels worry rise to his throat. First e-date with Doyoung — doie, as his display name says—, and now it’s ruined. Because of Twitter. God damn it. 

The man turns to Google for help: ‘why won’t my direct messages be sent on twitter?’ He clicks on the first result and skims through it. The corner of his mouth is turned down into an annoyed line. DM limit. Of fucking course. 

Mark goes back on Twitter and types out a tweet.

_omg guys im on dm limit NJDSUDNJ_

Immediately, he gets a reply, but it’s not what he’s expecting. Donghyuck had responded underneath the tweet with a ‘yeah it doesn’t go away for like a day or two’, and Mark groans inwardly. God fucking damn it. 

His laptop sings a little tune, and he checks his inbox. His heart beats just a little bit faster. Doyoung.

**thank you for spending the day with me :((**

**lets do this again and again and again**

Mark lets out a silent scream as he bangs the desk with his fists. He doesn’t know if his smile looks like a _smile_ , or if he looks constipated. His notifications update again.

**you really are v special and v v adorable <3**

Mark makes it a point to react to each message with a heart. His laptop dings. 

**hmm this gives me some sort of power since you can’t say anything at all!**

**nice! now what should i do with it, hm?**

**i wish i could kiss your troubles away :((**

**and hold your hands too**

**that’d be nice**

Mark finds it very appropriate to type out a ‘DVNOJADGABDKGBAGBGDJ’ on his timeline. Not even a minute later, he gets another message. 

**cutie**

Mark almost sends a tweet that eloquently says, ‘oh my god just kiss me now’, but he stops himself. He has self control, he says as he also deletes the previous tweets. At least, he does until Doyoung messages him again. 

**we’ve never been talking for about 12 hours**

A look at the corner of his laptop screen and Mark raises a brow. Doyoung was right. Wow, that’s… that’s crazy. Time sure does fly when you’re whipped. 

**i’ve never done this before and i feel scared but**

**i have a feeling it’ll work out, you know?**

**let’s see**

**let’s take it slow**

Fuck self-control, Mark says as he makes a tweet, fuck self-control to Hell. He hits send. 

_OH MY GOD IM SO FUCKING GAY DNSHSGHJS_

More heart-reacting to more messages. Mark sighs. He’s whipped. He’s whipped, he's fallen in deep, what the fucking _hell_. 

**omg was that tweet about me**

The Canadian wants to scream. Yes. A thousand times, yes. Yes, yes, yes, ye—

**tweet what you’re thinking, baby? please?**

Mark posts four memes that are drowning in hearts. He’s not sure if he put a caption or what, but Doyoung seems to get it, if his latest message says anything about it. 

**was that last post really for me, darling? you like me?**

All the nicknames make Mark’s head spin, but he somehow manages to react with a thumbs up. 

**really? that’s so sweet :(**

**now if only i could kiss you goodnight >:(**

“Oh my god,” Mark sucks in a breath. He’s so fucking whipped. His eyes drift to Doyoung’s icon as he takes in the sparkling eyes, the soft smile. Shit, how would the older’s lips feel on his own? Mark likes to think he’s a decent kisser but… fuck, how good is Doyoung, he wonders? How good is he at kissing and—

His laptop chimes, and Mark doesn’t hesitate to click on the notification that popped up. 

**god, you’re such a soft, cute, and adorable little baby. all mine, hm?**

Mark’s brain short-circuits. It’s obvious with the way he keyboard smashes in his latest tweet. 

**jesus you’re so cute**

The Canadian feels as if he’s on top of the world, on top of Everest. He wishes he could scream into the sky and let the heavens hear his euphoria.

**wanna call you puppy and play with you all day**

**or would you rather call me that?**

Mark is suddenly yanked off the summit, and he gulps. Oh god. It’s like _this_ now. Okay. He can do this. He can handle this. Yes. Oka—

**nah, i wanna call /you/ puppy. pet your hair and have you wrapped around my finger**

**you’ll be mine, won’t you? hm?**

“Yes,” The man breathes out as he reacts to every single message with a heart. “Yes, oh god—”

As if Doyoung can read his mind, he sends another message. 

**then i’ll make you mine someday :)**

And this is only, like, the first date. Day one of talking. Shit, it’s only been _twelve fucking hours_ , but Mark finds hope in that. He clings to it; he holds it tight and refuses to let it go. Someday, someday, someday. Is he a romantic? A dreamer? Maybe. For Doyoung, maybe. 

**i think you’d be so good for me**

**won’t you? like a good puppy?**

Mark reacts enthusiastically— or at least, as enthusiastic as he can with the DM limit placed on him. 

**yes you will! minhyung’s a good pup, my good puppy!**

**where do you wanna touch me, puppy? wanna bite my lips?**

Mark’s hands fly across his keyboard. God, he’s going to _die_. He’s going to fucking melt into a puddle, right there on his desk. He’s going to—

**mark up my thighs, maybe?**

**scent me up?**

**you wanna do that?**

**use your words, c’mon**

“Want it,” Mark mumbles, his mind painting a vivid picture. He types out his words without really noticing it. He tries to fix all his typos, tries to make sense of all his ramblings, but he can’t. He talks about how he wants all that and how Doyoung is so good to him and how he can’t even begin to imagine how Doyoung became so enamoured with him. _Him_ , Mark Lee. He thanks God for making him be an endearing mess. “Want all of it.” 

**baby, why wouldn’t i be interested in you? >:(**

**you’re so pure, so interesting, and so easy to break**

**look at you. going insane over all my words like the little slut you are**

The man’s skin prickles. His eyes drift yet again to Doyoung’s display icon. He wonders if that cute smile would be on the older’s face as he talks Mark down like this. Fuck. 

Mark shifts in his seat. Everything’s too hot, and he has no idea if he’s allowed to touch.

**so fucking cute**

**what will you do if i go offline now?**

**will you get yourself off on your own?**

Mark shivers. He wishes he could whine out protests, but it’s not like Doyoung could hear him. He tweets a simple ‘wait for you to come back’, for the other man to see. Like a good puppy. 

**aw :(**

**you want me to be there with you, don’t you?**

Mark reacts in a flash. His hands grip the edge of his desk tight. 

**I’m just having too much fun with you today**

**never seen anyone as responsive as you**

**i wanna keep you all to myself**

**so that you can be my slut and i can be yours**

Mark lets his head loll and his back arch a little. Fuck. His pants are just a little too tight, a little too wet. His knuckles turn white as he holds onto the desk like his life depends on it. He doesn’t know if he can touch; Doyoung didn’t say anything about touching yet. Mark is good. He’s a good boy.

Mark gets another notification, and it’s Donghyuck. It wasn’t even an indirect— the younger had mentioned him in the tweet. 

_hey @marklesparkle are you ok? you keep tweeting a lot of weird shit_

The Canadian replies with a simple ‘i’m fine’ and leaves it at that. He’s surprised when Doyoung messages him about it.

**ah, someone’s concerned about you**

**why don’t you tell them what we’re doing?**

**tell them you’re being a slut for me and that you don’t ever want anyone else for you**

For the first time, Mark hesitates. His heart thrums in his ears. He can imagine the humiliation actually racing through his bones, and he shudders. It’d be so fucking embarrassing, but it’d be so… so _good_. But then it’ll be so humiliating. Wait, but...

Doyoung notices, and lets the younger’s inbox light up.

**c’mon, i know you want to say it, darling**

**what a brave puppy**

Mark feels his chest swell as he shakily obeys. Feeling shy is now the last thing on his mind as he types in word for word. Doyoung never stops sending messages, and every time the Canadian glazes over it, it just spurs him on even more. 

**good boy, good puppy :D**

**c’mon, you’re almost there**

**you’re going to tweet it and then i'm going to shower you in praise like you deserve to be, baby**

Mark lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as the tweet goes through. 

_imaslutfordoieandidonteverwantanyoneelseforme_

A ripple of fear makes the man’s hair stand on end. Oh god. Maybe he should’ve put spaces in between his words so that it’s easy to read. Fuck, why did he hesitate? Shit, shit, shi—

**good boy! you did so well, baby**

**so good for me, and only me**

Mark falls back into the clouds of his mind. Fuck Everest. Whatever this is, it’s way much better. 

**you’re all mine, aren’t you?**

“All yours,” Mark bites his lip and keens. His hands fly, and they can’t seem to touchdown on one place for more than one second. He resolves to gripping his thigh tight with one hand and letting the other glide on the touchpad of his laptop, to heart-react to the flood of messages so far. “All fucking yours.”

**so cute**

**you’re just my cute little lapdog**

**when you get off today, will you think of me?**

The man nods, doing so unconsciously. He’s minutely thrusting into the air, because Doyoung didn’t give him permission. He didn’t explicitly tell Mark that he could touch himself yet. 

**will you think of me biting your cute little thighs and eating you out?**

“Oh, fuck,” Mark sobs into the crook of his arm as he doubles over on his desk. The hand on his leg tightens even further, and he imagines it as Doyoung’s hand. He grinds onto the leather of his seat, pretending it’s Doyoung’s tongue. He knows he looks pathetic, but he doesn’t care. “Fuck.”

The notifications don’t stop coming, and he lifts his head up to read the new messages. What he sees makes him bounce in his seat, just a little bit. 

**or do you finger yourself?**

**will you imagine me shoving two fingers into you while also putting two more into your mouth?**

“Oh god, _please_.” Mark’s fingers tremble as he types out a ‘too tight’ and tweets it for all his followers to see. 

**too tight? should i help you get loose?**

**you’d love my fingers in you, they’re long and they have some nails that can scratch**

**you’d absolutely go crazy like that, won’t you?**

Mark tweets out a frantic ‘yes yes fuck yes oh god’, and he swears he can _feel_ the smugness radiating off Doyoung. 

**that’s right, i knew you would**

**i want my name on your lips tonight when you touch yourself, baby**

**you understand?**

“Oh my god,” Mark groans under his breath, tugging at his hair and squirming in his seat. What the fuck. What the actual hell. What the _fuck_. “Oh my god.”

It takes him a few seconds to reach out a shaky hand and heart-react to the message, and it takes even less for Doyoung to respond. 

**or are you just a dumb puppy? should i say that again?**

Mark whimpers. He reacts to the message, giving his silent ‘yes’.

**again? I already told you, my dumb puppy, that i’m the only one for you. i’m going to ruin you so bad, you wouldn’t want anyone else**

“Yes,” Mark crosses his legs and squeezes, He can feel the damp spots on the cloth. He whispers to the screen, his only witness to his glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. “Want that so much. Yes, oh god, please.”

**my name should be the only thing on your lips when you come. understand?**

Mark does. He shows it with the spamming of the heart-reacts.

**okay now, how about we say goodnight to doie and let doyoung come out to love you better?**

“Sounds nice,” Mark mumbles to himself as he throws another heart. 

**hey baby !!! how are you?**

**everything okay? did i go too far?**

**i don’t wanna make you uncomfy :(( i’m sorry i took advantage of this situation**

**tomorrow hopefully you can be more responsive directly to me uwu**

**i don't like sharing >:(**

Mark feels like he’s glowing— and he didn’t even _have_ sex. He feels like he has that after-sex glow regardless, as he tweets out a ‘it was perfect, felt so nice, felt so safe, thank you’.

**im so happy it was perfect for you omg**

**you’re just so perfect for me**

**so cute**

Mark blushes under the darkness of night mode. 

**go drink some water for me**

**and it’s pretty late there, isn’t it? don’t let me keep you up!**

**cutie**

Mark shuts off his laptop and moves to do so. After jerking off in the bathroom— He’s a good boy, he came with his shirt clenched in between his teeth, pumping himself messily as he muffles out chants of ‘doie, doie, doie’—, he changes into some clean clothes and washes up. He comes back to his room with a glass of water and his phone vibrating with messages. Mark wishes he can react to them with more than just a heart. 

**goodnight baby !! i had a super lovely day with you <33 thank you for everything**

**consider this our first date?**

**i really wish this would work out for the best uwu**

**text me once you’re up! I miss you already :(**

Mark drifts off to Doyoung talking about how he told his best friend about Mark, and how the older man feels so giddy about it. The Canadian hopes things will work out for the best, too; he clings onto that piece of hope even in his dreams.

The first thing he does when he wakes up is frantically unlock his phone and test if the limit has been lifted. 

**im awake!!!!!!!**

**OMG DJSKGBODGS ITS WORKING THERES NO MORE DM LIMIT**

Mark ignores Donghyuck’s tweet directed at him. The notification bar displays a ‘so one of my oomfs decided to fucking SEXT on the tl and i feel so fucking di—’ but the man just swipes it away. He giggles when Doyoung responds a minute later. 

**hi baby! good morning :D**

God, Mark is so fucking _whipped_.


	2. BONUS: i'll give you the v later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen, Mark is a romantic, okay? He appreciates Doyoung and his company outside of sex; they’re boyfriends after all. Boyfriends! God, just thinking about it has Mark riding the clouds.
> 
> And being boyfriends, it’s precisely why when Doyoung makes an offhand comment about how mindbreak is one of his favorite kinks, Mark latches on to it and doesn’t let it go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> belated happy valentine's <3
> 
> im not even gonna try to hide it . if you know, you know
> 
> enjoy!

In Mark’s defense, they haven’t sexted for a while— two weeks, give or take. 

Listen, Mark is a romantic, okay? He appreciates Doyoung and his company outside of sex; they’re boyfriends after all. Boyfriends! God, just thinking about it has Mark riding the clouds.

And being boyfriends, it’s precisely why when Doyoung makes an offhand comment about how mindbreak is one of his favorite kinks, Mark latches on to it and doesn’t let it go. 

Hey, he’s backed up. 

**oh?? 👁️👁️**

**omg so 🥺👉👈**

**would you 🥺**

**yknow 👉👈**

******finish your sentence, puppy**

Mark smiles shakily, shifting in his seat. If Doyoung’s using the pet name, it should be a good sign. Right? Someone tell him he’s right, please. 

**would you**

**YKNOW**

**try it on me? : >>**

That’s surely a complete sentence. Hopefully? Probably. Mark didn’t have to wait and keep on guessing; Doyoung’s messages could rival the speed of light. 

**still not completing your sentences, hm?**

**c’mon**

**say it and i’ll probably consider it**

**ugh do i really have to :((**

**ITS EMBARRASSING**

Mark brings a hand to his cheek, feeling the warmth there, and he shuts his eyes. However, a notification chimes on his laptop screen, and he gulps when he reads the text. 

**don’t you want to make doie happy?**

_Doie_. Okay, yeah. That’s a hell of a good sign. 

**i do : <<**

Mark finds himself mirroring the pout in his message. 

**good boy**

And— yep. Mark is _gone_. What do you mean he’s sitting at his desk? He’s soaring into the clouds as of the moment. 

**now finish what you wanted to say**

Mark’s fingers fly across the keyboard. 

**i wanna try mindbreak with you?**

**🏃**

He holds his breath, only to dispel it through nervous laughter. What the hell is he even saying? _I wanna try mindbreak with you?_ Who the hell even asks that? How does someone even respond to that kind of question?

Doyoung, apparently, knows how. 

**really, baby?**

**i already tried it with you though**

And like, Mark needs to do a double-take— since _when?_ He tries to flip through his memories like a horrible slideshow presentation, but nothing comes up. No thoughts, he scolds himself, head empty.

**you’re so easy to break**

**but i didn’t want to push it too much, either**

**i knew the minute you were completely pliant, you’d do anything for me**

**isn’t that right, puppy?** ****

Deciding to cause problems on purpose, Mark laughs to himself. He even does a little pose as he types his response out, he hitting send with a little, “Boop.”

**but you didn’t push it too much :///**

**that’s not mindbreak!**

Immediately, it comes back to bite him in the ass. 

**do you want me to push you too far, darling?** ********

Now _that_ is an easy answer. Mark’s fingers slightly tremble against the computer keys.

**do i really have to say it**

**AAAAAAA**

**you already know :((**

Mark is regretting it, just a teeny tiny bit. He feels like he has no fucking idea what he’s gotten into, and that’s… hm. Interesting? A little frightening, but… _interesting_.

**it’s just better hearing it from you**

**always great to hear you say it like you’re begging**

Sorry, did Mark say it was interesting? Scratch that. It’s hot. It’s hot as fuck, sue him. Send him to horny jail or whatever! He’s not really complaining about how things are turning out, anyway. 

Still, it’s _embarrassing_. 

**i want to be**

**HGDNADIHG**

**pushed too far**

**how far? till you’re rendered as just my fucktoy, right?**

**till you aren’t even my puppy**

**you’re just a plaything**

And, well... Shit. Mark is shocked, as in slack-jawed and hands-frozen-on-his-keyboard kind of shocked. Holy shit. What’s the proper response? _Think, Mark Lee, think._

**yes : <<**

Nailed it. Mark is just about to vibrate out of his seat when two messages appear just mere seconds later. 

**what a cute puppy**

**where are you right now, darling?**

A simple enough question, but the only thing that’s going through Mark’s mind is… well, nothing coherent. It’s a complete miracle that he still manages to type with somewhat steady hands. 

**just talking to you 🥺**

**sitting at my desk**

Mark's stretching his arms, groaning, when the notification pops up. He races to click on it, swallowing as he reads the message over and over. 

**would you touch yourself for me right now, puppy?**

Immediately one of Mark’s hands falls to grip at his thigh. He squeezes the flesh, pulling back to watch the skin turn slightly red into the shape of a handprint. 

**mhm**

**i can do that**

**good boy**

**how are you feeling?  
  
**On cue, Mark fidgets in his seat. 

**feeling kinda warm**

**not hard yet, puppy?**

Mark sucks in a deep breath as his skin prickles. He feels like he’s well on his way to being on overdrive. 

**not yet**

**but i can be soon**

**we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?**

**you know what i’d do since your stupid cock isn’t hard?**

**i’d spit on my fingers and fuck you with them till youre blushing**

Oh, Mark doesn’t need any of that to turn pink. He can already feel the natural flush of his skin spreading down to his stomach and lower back; he swears he knows it’s there. The messages don’t stop coming, and Mark just _looks_.

**then you’d properly get hard the next time, hm?**

**would crawl under the table and spread you out real nice**

**i think i’d like the taste of you too, puppy** ****

**bet you taste so sweet**

**would suck you dry till your cock’s tired of producing slick**

**and you’d beg for it, right?**

**you’d cry for me to touch you?  
  
** Mark grows dizzier at every text that slides into the conversation, legs falling open as he squirms in his seat. How does he even begin to _think_ on how to respond to those? His nerves crackle beneath his skin, telling him to say something. 

**yes**

**for doie**

He starts to feel a little bad— he wishes he can be more articulate, but his monkey brain just loops the word ‘horny’ like a broken record. Doyoung seems to like his responses, anyway.

**yes, for me, all for me**

**you’re all mine**

**why don’t you tell everyone what you’re doing right now?  
** **  
** Is this what Mark thinks it is? 

**  
on the**

**timeline?** **  
  
**

Memories of the first time he did _that_ well up like bubbles in a hot spring. He covers his face with a hand; _Jesus_ , fuck. If it really is what he thinks it is, then—  
  
**yeah, you’re no stranger to this  
**

Oh. Ohhh. Oh? _Oh.  
_

**why don’t we give them a part two?  
**

Mark still remembers Donghyuck cussing him out, and he flushes with shame; god, _that_ was humiliating. Then again, an anon who calls himself Yuta made a comment in Mark’s curiouscat about how ‘it was kinda hot tho’, so there’s that…? 

Type, backspace, then more typing. It’s hard— the cursor blinks mockingly at him, and after extensive reviewing of his little tweet, Mark hits ‘send tweet’.  
  
_ummm guys i’m a little busy right now so YEAH dont expect to hear from me for a while_

**done**

Mark thinks it’s okay— it should be fine, right? Well, not really.   
  
**no, that won’t do**

**say it properly, puppy**

**you wanted me to push you to the limit, right?**

**so go do it  
  
** Okay, fine... Mark _did_ say he wanted that; he made his bed, now he has to sleep in it. Shit. What did he get himself into? He shudders as he does so, feeling a little scared— fuck. He just knows someone’s gonna come after him, when it’s all over. 

_okay guys um . yes im sexting my bf LOOK AWAY_

He covers half of his face with one hand while the other taps on the touchpad to go back to the conversation, where Doyoung is most likely patiently waiting. 

**i did it**

**did it properly**

The three dots dance at the bottom of the chatbox, then disappear, then reappear. Mark squeezes his eyes shut and only opens them when his laptop chirps the all-too familiar notification sound. 

**that’s cute, baby**

**but you’re making sense right now and we can’t have that :(**

**just want you to be a blubbering mess**

**no thoughts, you’ll just be a fucktoy  
**

Okay, that last message has a teeny tiny blank that Mark wants to fill in. Just a little clarification, y’know? 

**doie’s toy**

Mark brings both hands to his face this time and screams into it. He hesitantly peeks through his fingers as more messages chime in.

**yes baby**

**my toy**

**and you know i don’t like sharing my toys**

A blush spreads down Mark’s neck as he’s fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Good thing it’s just through text, because if this happened face to face, or even on a video call… shit, he’ll actually _die_. 

**yes**

**only yours**

Mark’s toes tingle, and he curls them to somehow release the butterflies fluttering in his chest. He’s resorted to spinning around in his chair to combat the butterflies in his stomach, but stops when Doyoung asks him two questions. 

**how do you feel right now, pup?**

**are you hard now?**

Mark looks down, face palming when he sees the tent in his shorts. What the fuck? He didn’t even notice. He squirms in his chair, feeling the cloth softly rub against his skin. 

**um**

**a little**

**i can feel it**

**yeah?**

**why don’t you scoop up a little precum, darling?**

**tell me what you taste like**

Slowly reaches a hand down his shorts, Mark bites his lip at the feeling of his warm hand. He doesn’t want to keep Doyoung waiting, so he dips two fingers down to scrape across the head of his cock, and reluctantly brings them to his mouth; he’s never tasted himself before. A few moments later and he pulls them away, pouting, before using his free hand to type.

**doesnt taste like anything :((**

**sorry doie :(((**

He’s wiping the excess saliva on his shorts— hey, there’s a chore called ‘doing the laundry’ for a reason— as his brows knit deeper into a frown. Mark is… dare he say it? Disappointed. 

**it’s okay pretty, i’m sure you’re very delicious nonetheless**

**what do you want yourself to taste like, darling?**

Mark licks his lips. It might sound a little weird, but… 

**sweet**

**puppy likes sweet things**

Not even three seconds later and Doyoung just knows what to answer, pulling out the best responses like he’s doing magic tricks. 

**i’d edge you till you’re shaking if you’re sweet, baby**

**wouldn’t let you cum for hours on end  
  
**“Oh, god,” Mark mumbles, shuddering. He hangs his head and stays like that even when Doyoung sends another text. Mark doesn’t know how, but he finds the strength to read them. 

**can you use your left hand for me, puppy?**

**can you imagine it’s me touching you?**

Mark cups his bulge through his shorts, nibbling on his bottom lip. One of his feet is up on the chair, and it makes it easier for him to minutely thrust up against his palm. 

**do you hear yourself, puppy?**

**what if someone walks in on you?**

Despite knowing that his room’s empty, Mark becomes paranoid. He looks around his room, the only source of light being the glow of his laptop screen. 

**i’ll be quiet**

**don’t wanna disturb my roommate**

He thinks that’s what Doyoung wants, until he’s completely and utterly bamboozled. 

**we can’t have that, puppy**

**we HAVE to let everyone else know that you’re mine**

**gotta show them that i’m making pretty little markie impossibly hard and wet**

Mark whines, but Doyoung is relentless.

**did you lock your door?**

There’s a double take right there. Of course— why didn’t Mark think of that? _Fucking idiot_ , he bemoans to himself. 

**not yet**

**am gonna go lock it now**

He’s halfway out of his chair when Doyoung’s messages have him crashing back down onto his seat.  
  
**what if your roommate wants to watch you quietly?**

**leave it unlocked, pretty**

**just sit there because you’re such a good toy**

**you’re all mine, and you’ll do anything i say**

There’s only one thing Mark sees, eyes laser focused. He doesn’t even feel himself typing, too distracted. 

**im a good toy**

**that’s right, puppy**

**a good toy**

**that’s all you are**

Mark slumps against his chair, his hands gripping the desk being the only thing that keeps him from turning into jelly. 

**how are you feeling right now, puppy?**

**how hard are you?**

Again, Mark pouts. 

**my shorts are uncomfy**

**no underwear :(**

Was that too risky? Shit, it probably was. Well, it’s not like he can delete the messages now. Fuck.  
  
**it’s okay, not wearing underwear means you can spread your legs even more**

**take off your shorts, darling**

Shooting a look back at his door, he lifts his hips up and slides his shorts down. First, he lets it sit at his thighs; he starts feeling a little brave, so he lets them fall halfway down his knees. But then Doyoung said to spread his legs even more… Mark lets the shorts pool at his ankles. 

He tries to get comfortable on his chair; it’s odd to be naked on the waist down while he’s at his desk. 

**want doie so bad :(**

**you already have me, darling**

Wow, that’s— well, that’s kind of sweet, actually. Mark smiles as he feels a pleased shiver run down the length of his spine. Yeah, Doyoung’s his just as much as he’s Doyoung’s.

**next time, you should probably be gagged and blindfolded**

**because that’s how good toys are treated**

Mark lets out a shaky breath, closing his legs. His dick bobs in the air, red and slightly leaking from the speed and force of it.

**im a good toy**

**i’ll turn you into a better toy, baby**

**the best toy**

**you’ll just take whatever i give you**

“ _Yes,_ ” Mark whimpers through clenched teeth, hand teasing the head of his cock. He spreads the precum around with a finger. “Yes.”

**how many fingers can you fit in, baby?**

Mark’s mind goes to a screeching halt. Oh, dear _lord._

**two? or three?**

**im really tight**

**three? that’s interesting**

**can you do it for me right now, puppy?**

Mark nods, even though he knows Doyoung can’t see it. He stops playing with himself to coat two fingers in saliva. He even starts playing with his tongue for a bit, eyes glossing over the messages as he plants his feet on his chair and teases his hole.

**you’d be so full and pretty and cute**

A curiouscat question pops up, but Mark ignores it. Instead, he slowly eases a finger in, letting out small pants.  
  
**and then i’d fuck you with my cock and show you how full i can really make you feel**

Mark gasps, finger already halfway in. His own cock throbs. 

**my cock would be so much better, wouldn’t it?  
** **  
** “Ngh…” Mark huffs, reaching over to type. It takes him a considerable amount of effort to pull his thoughts together and have his free hand type them in. 

**gonna feel so full**

**gonna break puppy**

Mark minutely thrusts his finger in and out, going deeper at every push. He catches his bottom lip in between his teeth to muffle the heavy breaths that roll off his tongue.  
  
**that’s right, angel**

**would break you, just like what you wanted**

**you’re just a poor, insufferable little toy**

“Just a toy,” Mark mumbles, wiggling his finger around inside him. He pants when he feels the blunt fingernail drag against his walls. “Just a-a toy.”

**i’ll fuck you so hard you can feel my cock in your stomach, baby**

**and you’ll keep all my cum inside you, right?**

**all safe and sound**

Dear _lord_ please grant Mark Lee strength. 

**wont waste a drop**

**and what if it drips down?**

**you’ll just lick it up?**

Mark doesn’t even try to answer that. It’s just for sake of formalities, y’know? Rhetoric questions. He’s rewarded in kind with the next few messages. 

**of course you will, you’re just a puppy**

**you’re born for it**

**how close are you, puppy?**

**you want to cum?**

It takes a while for Mark to let the questions sink in, body feeling deliciously heavy. His legs twitch periodically, his lone finger still twisting and prodding. 

**not close yet**

**then fuck yourself open with two fingers**

A sob just barely manages to be swallowed down Mark’s throat, sweat dripping down his temple as the other finger ghosts against his hole.

**too tight doie icant**

**yes baby, you can**

**i know you can, you’re such a good puppy, aren’t you?**

**you’ll listen to anything i say**

“O-oh,” Mark’s mouth drops into an ‘o’ as he adds the second finger. He takes deep breaths, trying to make the slide easier for him, but it’s difficult— he can feel himself clenching around his fingers, simultaneously trying to suck them in and trying to keep them out; Mark’s just a little too tight. “ _Oh_ _—_ ”

**doesn’t it feel good, angel?**

**you know the drill**

**c’mon, in and out with your knuckles bent**

Mark tries to respond as best as he can, despite a tear slipping from his eye. He feels himself leak even more, precum beading onto his tense stomach.

**tigyt yight tighy tiht**

**doie itsd tihgt**

**does it hurt, puppy?**

**its okau pupp likesd it**

They’ve heard each other's voices before, so it’s so easy for Mark to hear the cooing in Doyoung’s messages.

**i know, angel**

**it feels amazing, doesn’t it?**

**i’d have you cumming on my fingers by this time**

A familiar sensation licks at Mark’s gut, warm and dense and insistent. It curls around him like a snake, guiding his fingers to move faster, to bury themselves in deeper until he feels _full_. He muffles his noises with a heavy tongue.

**wanna cum**

**no, puppy**

The smile in Doyoung’s response is right there, Mark can feel it. He just fucking _knows_ but he doesn’t slow down one bit. More tears spill out of his eyes. 

**dooie pleas inwanna cum i csnt**

**you know that’s not how this works**

**be a good boy**

**be a good toy and listen to me, will you?**

**doie’s going to be so happy if you listen, angel**

Mark mewls, placing one of his feet atop his desk as he leans back in his chair. He forgets the keyboard in lieu of focusing on the feeling of his fingers inside him and watching the messages pour in with half-lidded eyes. 

**just a bit more**

**such a cute little puppy**

**how does it feel?**

**gonna cym**

**don’t come so fast, baby**

**i know you can hold it**

Mark frowns, letting out a sound that could be a mix of a sob and a whimper, closing his thighs in an attempt to hold back his orgasm. 

**doeii im ginna chm**

**plewse plesse lelase**

**puppy, behave**

**be good for just a few more minutes**

**do i feel nice inside you, darling?**

**can you feel me in your tummy, baby?**

And Mark… Mark can't even start making sense of anything at this point. His fingers make quiet squelching sounds, curling and uncurling. They’re too short to actually graze across his sweet spot, but that’s okay— the way they drag against his walls is just as good.

**no one could ever compare to how i feel, right?**

Mark’s so close; it takes every ounce of strength to rein himself in. He arches out of his seat only to slump back onto it. His free hand struggles to type, but he thinks he’s doing good. Emphasis on the word ‘think’.

**ni no neverf doioe frrls so goid**

“Please,” Mark lets a whine slip past just this once, fingers a blur. He’s so close; he’s barely hanging on by a single thread. “P-Please.”

**mhm**

**good boy**

**my sweet little angel**

**you can cum now**

**cum all you want**

**doei** **doiedoeo doo e odii**

“No, I...” Mark tries to type, but all he can focus on is _yes yes yes permission_. He admits defeat, pulling away from the keyboard to jerk off as he fingers himself to completion. “Oh n-no, I’m cumming—”

He turns his head to let out a muffled cry into his shoulder when pleasure soaks past his skin like warm sunshine and races through his veins similar to a good cup of coffee. Being tipped over the edge makes his head buzz, and warm white spills over his hand and his shirt. Messages pour in, but he’s too busy riding out his orgasm to really care.  
  
**that’s it, angel**

**you did so well**

**followed every word i said**

**very good, i’m very proud of you**

Mark moves his mouth away to catch his breath, panting into the open air. He takes out the fingers, moaning low in his throat as he does so, and wipes it against his skin. The shiny wetness against his thighs makes his hole flutter; it looks pretty on him.  
  
A notification chime pops up, and Mark looks to see the previous texts, as well as a new one. 

**how are you feeling, baby?**

Mark grimaces when he looks down at himself. He’s made a mess, and almost all his fingers are… dirty. 

Well, fuck. He ends up using a ring and pinky finger to type, feeling a little silly. 

**too**

**tired**

**oh no :(**

**c’mon baby, get up and drink some water for me**

**such a good boy, you did well so far**

**just go get some water**

Mark complies, pulling his chair away and standing on shaky legs. He first heads to the bathroom to get cleaned up, blushing as he scrapes the cum and saliva off of him; memories can be a bitch, and what had just occurred replays in his mind. When he finally picks up the pieces of his dignity, he moves to change out of his soiled shirt, scoops up the discarded shorts to dump the both of them in a laundry basket. He takes out a clean set of pajamas out of his closet with a flourish.  
  
Mark thinks he’s decent enough; the first thing he sees as he opens the door is the television playing in the living room, and Renjun sitting on the couch.

“Sup,” Mark clears his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen.  
  
“Hey.” Renjun mutters, too busy watching some soap opera. There doesn’t seem to be any sign that Renjun had heard anything, thank _god_. 

“How long do you plan to stay up?” Mark asks, pouring himself a cup of water. Renjun shrugs, too engrossed with the television; Mark thinks that means an hour or two more. Sorry, he doesn't speak fluent Renjun.

Alright, well… have fun,” Mark says, placing the cup in the sink; he’ll wash it tomorrow. “Goodnight.”  
  
“You too.”

Mark shuts the door behind him, giggling under his breath. Fuck, he thanks the stars that Renjun didn’t hear anything else he would never hear the end of it— he just fucking knows.   
  
Nevermind Renjun. Mark makes his way back to his desk, booting his sleeping laptop back up to first read the curiouscat message:

_You literally don't have to announce to tl that you're sexting you gross fuck 🤠 Keep that shit in dms 🤠_

Mark raises a brow. Did… did anon not see the first time he sexted _on_ the timeline? Whew, that was a rollercoaster; besides, who cares about nameless anon when he’s got Yuta anon? He disregards the message for now, to be answered later; Doyoung’s texts are much more of a priority. 

**how did i do?**

**was i good for you?**

And like, those can be considered rhetoric questions, right? To Mark, maybe. But still— it wouldn’t help to let Doyoung know how good he made him feel.

**really, really good**

**it was amazing**

**thank you**

**but i wanna make you feel good, too :(**

Mark facepalms, feeling guilty. He was so, ahem, caught up in the moment that he totally forgot about Doyoung. _Idiot,_ he hisses inwardly, _not everything’s about you._

**oh, i had a lot of fun, angel**

**it’s just really fun to have you like this**

Okay. Okay. Okay, Mark is melting in his seat. No one should perceive him right now.

**mm i think this is the longest we’ve gone**

**one hour i think?**

Mark looks at the clock that’s nestled in the corner of his screen, then gasps. It’s exactly midnight.

**oh my god**

**OH MY GOD**

**HAPPY VALENTINES**

**I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU**

Mark ignores the ‘OMG’ he gets in return, instead sending him a link to a Spotify playlist with a long message: 

**okay so i made a little thing**

**i made a playlist based off the songs you gave me**

**so yeah 👉👈**

**ALSO HEHE the first letter of each song spells out a message 🥺 'you and i <3' 🥺 🥺 🥺**

Is it cheesy? Maybe. But is it worth it when Doyoung starts to keyboard smash? Hell yes. 

**I LOVE YURI ON ICE**

**DKDKDKDJDJFJDIDOEJXKDI**

**i fucking love you im gonna eat u**

Mark just giggles, propping his elbows on his desk as he cradles his chin in the palms of his hands. He watches Doyoung continue to lose his shit, responding when he can.  
  
**I LOVE YOU TOO!!!**

**my baby 💖**

Mark’s eyes crinkle into crescents. Yeah. Yeah, he’s Doyoung’s, just as much Doyoung is his.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme know what you think!! 
> 
> twitter: @starsnatched

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what you think by leaving a kudos, comment, or both! thanks for reading <3
> 
> twitter: @starsnatched


End file.
